Posts Tagged ‘Elul’

“I am God, your Lord, Who raised you from the land of Egypt, open wide your mouth and I will fill it (Psalms 81:11).” Asked of me all that your heart desires, and I will fulfill every request (Ibn Ezra), on the condition that you hearken to Me. Then you will never know want, hunger, or thirst, just as you were completely provided for one I brought you from Egypt. (Radak)

From these words, the Talmud (Yerushalmi Ta’anit 3:6) derives the halachic principle that the worshiper should supplicate God for all his needs, thereby demonstrating his complete faith in God’s omnipotence and benevolence. The more one asks for God’s help, the wider he opens his mouth, the more he shows that he believes in God’s ability to provide all of a person’s needs.

“Listen, My nation, and I will attest to you; O Israel, if you would but listen to Me (Psalms 81:9).” The Midrash (Shir Hashirim 1) says that God’s commanding voice made such a profound impression on them at Sinai that the Evil Inclination was purged from their hearts. After hearing these two commandments, however, Israel grew weak. They panicked and refused to listen to God’s awesome voice. They demanded that Moses to come their intermediary and transmit the remaining eight Commandments to them. At that moment, they ceased to be spellbound by God’s holy words, and the Evil Inclination returned to their hearts.

Therefore, God says, “Oh, Israel, if you had listened to Me there would be no strange god [i.e. Evil Inclination] within you.” (Shevet M’Yisrael)

The Shofar’s voice is the same voice we heard at Sinai. It potentially carries the same power to purge the Evil Inclination from our hearts. We must lease in as if we are being presented with the same choice as the people who stood at Sinai: Will we choose to listen directly to God’s voice? Or, will we be so intimidated that we will, once again, fail to take full advantage of the opportunity.

“When someone tells you to consult mediums and spiritists, who whisper and mutter, should not a people inquire of their God? Why consult the dead on behalf of the living?Consult God’s instruction and the testimony of warning. If anyone does not speak according to this word, they have no light of dawn (Isaiah 8:19-20).”

Most of us are seekers, whether we seek God, truth, material success, happiness, or the ultimate thrill; we are seekers.

When Isaiah urges us to,

“Seek God while He may be found;

call on him while He is near.

Let the wicked forsake their ways

and the unrighteous their thoughts.

Let them turn to God, and He will have mercy on them,

and to our Lord, for He will freely pardon (Isaiah 55:6-7),”

he is reminding us, that we not only must choose to seek God and His love, we must choose how we will seek, where we will seek, and whom we will consult.

“Why consult the dead on behalf of the living?” We are seeking life, “Remember us for life, King Who desires life; Inscribe us in the Book of Life, for Your sake, the Living Power.” If we are seeking life, we must seek in something living, vibrant and real.

“Consult God’s instruction and the testimony of warning.” Elul, the most auspicious time to seek God, as this is the time when He may be found, is the time when we must “Consult God’s instruction,” and search for answers to our questions in His Torah.

We can use this month to make a list of our questions, the issues that we have with God and Judaism, our doubts, and our need for clarity. We should then use this month of Seeking God to “Consult God’s instruction,” to find answers.

“We have betrayed.” “A new king arose over Egypt, who did not know of Joseph (Exodus 1:8).” “He made himself as if he did not know of Joseph’s contributions to Egypt (Rashi).” My father zt’l often spoke of the fact that the first thing the Torah wants us to know about Pharaoh was that he had no sense of gratitude; he was a Bogeid, a denier of how he benefited from others! Pharaoh was cruel tyrant, a murderer, and a denier of God, and yet, the Torah wants us to know that at the root of all his evil was the fact that he was a person who betrayed Joseph! My father added, “One who denies how he has benefited from others will eventually deny God from Whom he has benefited most!”

It’s also interesting that the man who betrays Joseph eventually betrays his entire nation, allowing them to be destroyed as a result of his stubbornness!

We do not find Pharaoh attempting to rectify this sin, but, when we consider the story of the Ten Plagues, we find that God is directing the king to rectify this one point: The slavery ended as soon as the plagues began, and yet, Pharaoh refuses God’s demand that he, “Let My people go!” Pharaoh is certainly struggling with God, wondering why such a great Power needed his permission to allow the Jews to leave, but how did he rationalize his decision to allow his country to be devastated? He, at one point, agrees to allow the men to leave for a three day celebration with their God, but insists that they return, holding the women and children hostage. He wants Israel to remain in Egypt even if they are no longer slaves. He needs them for his country. Pharaoh is forced by God to acknowledge Israel’s contribution to Egypt. God directs events so that Pharaoh will repair his denial of Joseph.

Application:

“Bagadnu: I acknowledge that I have not consistently acknowledged how I have benefited from others, my parents, teachers, friends and strangers. I commit to actively repair this sin by reviewing how I have benefited from the important people in my life and contacting them to acknowledge how I have benefited from them.”

“It infuriates me to be wrong when I know I’m right.” (Jean-Baptiste Poquelin, known by his stage name Molière)

Genesis 42: 1 When Jacob learned that there was grain in Egypt, he said to his sons, “Why do you just keep looking at each other?” 2 He continued, “I have heard that there is grain in Egypt. Go down there and buy some for us, so that we may live and not die.”

3 Then ten of Joseph’s brothers went down to buy grain from Egypt. 4 But Jacob did not send Benjamin, Joseph’s brother, with the others, because he was afraid that harm might come to him. 5 So Israel’s sons were among those who went to buy grain, for there was famine in the land of Canaan also.

6 Now Joseph was the governor of the land, the person who sold grain to all its people. So when Joseph’s brothers arrived, they bowed down to him with their faces to the ground. 7 As soon as Joseph saw his brothers, he recognized them, but he pretended to be a stranger and spoke harshly to them. “Where do you come from?” he asked.

“From the land of Canaan,” they replied, “to buy food.”

8 Although Joseph recognized his brothers, they did not recognize him. 9 Then he remembered his dreams about them and said to them, “You are spies! You have come to see where our land is unprotected.”

10 “No, my lord,” they answered. “Your servants have come to buy food. 11 We are all the sons of one man. Your servants are honest men, not spies.”

12 “No!” he said to them. “You have come to see where our land is unprotected.”

13 But they replied, “Your servants were twelve brothers, the sons of one man, who lives in the land of Canaan. The youngest is now with our father, and one is no more.”

14 Joseph said to them, “It is just as I told you: You are spies! 15 And this is how you will be tested: As surely as Pharaoh lives, you will not leave this place unless your youngest brother comes here. 16 Send one of your number to get your brother; the rest of you will be kept in prison, so that your words may be tested to see if you are telling the truth. If you are not, then as surely as Pharaoh lives, you are spies!” 17 And he put them all in custody for three days.

18 On the third day, Joseph said to them, “Do this and you will live, for I fear God: 19 If you are honest men, let one of your brothers stay here in prison, while the rest of you go and take grain back for your starving households. 20 But you must bring your youngest brother to me, so that your words may be verified and that you may not die.” This they proceeded to do.

21 They said to one another, “Surely we are guilty (Asheimim) because of our brother. We saw how distressed he was when he pleaded with us for his life, but we would not listen; that’s why this distress has come on us.”

The brothers acknowledge their guilt for refusing to listen to Joseph’s cries even though they saw his distress. They did not say that they were guilty for not listening, but for not listening after they saw Joseph’s suffering.

We are approaching the Vidui as a way of learning from our mistakes: Did the brothers learn from this mistake? Did they change after acknowledging their sin?

The brothers “Knew” they were right when they threw their brother into the pit. They saw him as destructive, dangerous to the family’s unity. The Sages describe the brothers as convening a Court and sentencing Joseph to death!

They are do not openly state that they were wrong for getting rid of Joseph, only for ignoring his cries even after they saw his agony. It is difficult to pay attention when you know you are right!

Reuben attempts to have them consider that they were altogether wrong, “Reuben replied, “Didn’t I tell you not to sin against the boy? But you wouldn’t listen! Now we must give an accounting for his blood,” but he is ignored. As far as the brothers are concerned, they were guilty only for ignoring Joseph’s cries even after seeing his suffering.

Did they attempt to repair their sin?

They did: “When Joseph’s brothers saw that their father was dead, they said, “What if Joseph holds a grudge against us and pays us back for all the wrongs we did to him?” 16 So they sent word to Joseph, saying, “Your father left these instructions before he died: 17 ‘This is what you are to say to Joseph: I ask you to forgive your brothers the sins and the wrongs they committed in treating you so badly.’ Now please forgive the sins of the servants of the God of your father (50:15-16).” Rashi says that they sent the children of Bilhah to speak to Joseph, because he had always been very friendly with them.

I believe that the choice of the sons of Bilhah was an attempt to repair the sin described above. Joseph surely suffered when he realized that his brothers wanted to kill him, but suffered most from the hatred, or, at the very least, the silence of the brothers with whom he was friendly. The choice of these brothers, who had hurt Joseph the most was an indication that they were paying attention to Joseph’s experience; his pain, his response. They were attempting to repair the lack of sensitivity they displayed when they ignored his cries by demonstrating that they were now paying attention to his emotions. This was the rectification of their Ashamnu.

It is only when they attempt to repair the Ashamnu that they first acknowledge that they were wrong: “I ask you to forgive your brothers the sins and the wrongs they committed in treating you so badly.”

The lack of sensitivity and compassion for Joseph prevented them from reconsidering their decision. Once they repaired the Ashamnu, they were able to reevaluate all their actions.

Application:

There are times when we reach a decision and act so convinced that we are correct that we ignore the effects of our decisions on others. That is Ashamnu. (Five of the six Asham Offerings are associated with the impact of our decisions on others. The sixth, Asham Talui, the Doubt Asham, is focused on dealing with doubting a “right” decision.)

A person is so careful with the laws of negative speech that he will not share information when asked for a recommendation for a Shidduch or a business transaction.

A person accepts new religious stringencies without considering the impact on his or her spouse.

The point of reciting Ashamnu is to identify such moments and commit to take specific action to rectify the lack of sensitivity. The Tikkun can be to commit to being a better listener, or to review important decisions with the people who will be most affected by the decision.

“Ashamnu; I have acted without being sufficiently sensitive to the impact of my decisions and actions on others. I commit to repair this sin by paying more attention to the reactions of others to my decisions.”

David Morris writes in “The Culture of Pain” that to a doctor, pain is a puzzle, but to a patient it is a mystery, in the ancient sense of the word, a truth necessarily closed off from full understanding, which refuses to yield every quantum of its darkness: “a landscape where nothing looks entirely familiar and where even the familiar takes on an uncanny strangeness.”

I study the Vidui, the Yom Kippur Confession, and immediately experience the mystery of pain. I grew up observing people weeping as they recited the Vidui. When asked, they would describe the pain they felt over their mistakes, and how undeserving they were of God’s blessings. I never heard that approach from my father zt”l, but it left its mark. Here I am, pained over my imperfections and failings. I am viewing my life through the eyes of the Vidui, the things I could be doing better, and the landscape looks different from my regular perspective. I try to observe all that I do through the eyes of God’ Judgment, not my daily perspective, and everything becomes slightly unfamiliar. I become a mystery to myself. Why is it so difficult to change? Why do I repeat the same mistakes year after year? In my regular view, my anger was appropriate. In the Vidui’s view, the situation is different; there was no call for anger and resentment.

If my Vidui causes me to see me and my life as mysteries, how will it help me change in practical ways? Are Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur about the mysteries of life or the way we deal with what we perceive?

I decided to take the physician’s perspective; that of a puzzle, not a mystery. I acknowledge the pain and attempt to understand it as a piece of the huge puzzle of a human being struggling with life: “Is the pain another piece in the complex puzzle of my life?”

For some people, the pain is how they experience Teshuva – they only feel that they are doing Teshuva when they feel pain over their mistakes. They want to feel the pain. It becomes an essential part of their religious life: “If I can’t live at a higher level, I will, at least, be pained that I cannot. The pain is my way of exculpating my inadequacies.” The pain has become part of the person’s service. It is one piece of the puzzle; a piece that adds pain to their spiritual lives. They do not believe in the pure joy of serving God; it must come with some pain.

That cannot be the intent of the Vidui.

The Vidui lays out a structure that describes our struggle with mastering a spiritual life challenged by the mundane. It lists the daunting challenges of living a God oriented life. It lays out the map of how spiritual yearnings may mislead us. It points out where we are straying from the path to success. I can pinpoint my mistakes and sigh in relief, not pain, as I realize where and how I can return to my path.

The Vidui helps me identify the source of my pain, and repair it. It is not intended to cause pain, but to identify it at its source. It restores the joy in my service of God. It heals me. It empowers me to move forward without pain.

The philosopher Michel Foucault postulates that modern medicine began when doctors stopped asking patients, “What is the matter with you?” a question that invited a complex personal response, and began asking, “Where does it hurt?” instead, a question that focuses solely on biology.

What happens when we study the Vidui, the Yom Kippur Confession as a response to these two question?

If the Vidui is in response to “What is the matter with you?”, we offer a long list of all the things that are wrong with the way we behave, a personal response describing symptoms. We will beat our chests, perhaps even cry, and hopefully, promise to change.

However, if our confession is in response to, “Where does it hurt?” we are crying to God as the Ultimate Healer, listing the places within that pain us. We are describing our frustration with internal limitations and illnesses that prevent us from becoming the people we dream of being.

The first response is a psychotherapy session. We will literally “get it off our chests.” The latter is an appointment with a great diagnostician and healer. Such a Vidui is the opening round in a search for a cure.

Before 1882, when the tuberculosis bacterium was identified, consumptives were suspected to struggle with evil spirits, vampirism, vapors, a struggle between body and soul, or even a curse. The disease was personal. “What’s the matter with you?” was literal. It would be half a century before the cure, antibiotics, would appear, but the question changed. The patient could view himself without the crushing burden of personal responsibility for his illness.

We recite the Vidui as a community. We are not the consumptive coughing blood as we hide in a nineteenth century mountain sanatorium. We do not list our responses to “What is the matter with you?”, as if the problems are our own. We are the consumptives who know that the bacterium exists and present the illness to the Healer, requesting a diagnosis and cure. “This is where it hurts!” we declare. This is how we have been infected by dangerous bacteria.

The Vidui does not begin as a personal description of our faults. It is a reading of the diagnostic manual of illnesses and symptoms. It is a pathological report. It is a cry for healing.

We follow the Ashamnu-Bagadnu with the Al-Cheit, as a description of what we must change to be freed of the illnesses described in the opening Vidui. We suffer these diseases because we make ourselves vulnerable when we act with a stubborn heart, or without thinking.

We accept responsibility for making ourselves vulnerable. We acknowledge that our actions make us susceptible to the diseases listed in Ashamnu-Bagadnu, and then ask God as Healer, to cure the disease.

“Where does it hurt?” asks God. “It hurts here, and here, and here. It hurts that we cannot connect with You because of our diseases. It hurts that we are so ill that it is difficult to change the behaviors that make us susceptible to spiritual illness. Heal us!”

What does one do after a hurricane leaves his home without power for six days, ruining all the food, and making it impossible to clean the house? You have really special guests for Shabbat!

We had two of our best friends in the world as guests this Shabbat and the small stuff didn’t matter. It was Shabbat and that was enough to connect and allow us to focus on the important parts of life. It was a life nurturing visit until…

I found out that they are Mitzvah thieves!

Yes; such a concept exists in Halacha. They stole my Mitzvah. They stripped their beds before they left, depriving me of part of my Mitzvah of Hachnasat Orchim: Bringing guests into the home. Every detail is part of the Mitzvah, even cleaning up after they leave. But did they care? No! Such good friends and yet they didn’t leave anything for me to clean up after they left!

I’m considering taking them to Bet Din – Jewish Court – to collect my pieces of silver. I can claim that I never strip my bed after visiting them. I always ask, “Shall I strip the bed?” I always leave a huge mess behind in my unbelievable commitment to help them have a bigger Mitzvah cleaning up after me. Do they show the same sensitivity to me? …the same concern for my Mitzvah?

Debbie, righteous woman she is, argues their case: They saw that my back was hurting and didn’t want me to bend. They have too much respect for me as their rebbi to allow me to strip their beds? Poor arguments: I insist on washing the linen for company and preparing the beds because Debbie takes care of everything else and I want my part of the Mitzvah.

Debbie argues right back: “You are focusing on how you want to personalize the Mitzvah! That is Chassidut; not the Mitzvah itself! They don’t have to pay you for stealing your Chassidut!”

Well, with all due respect, the Chafetz Chaim disagrees with Debbie! A guest was embarrassed when the great Tzaddik wanted to make his bed, and said, “Please allow me to make the bed.” He had the same concerns of respect for a rebbi and concern for the sage’s old age. The Chafetz Chaim responded, “Do you want to put on Tefillin for me too? This is MY mitzvah, and I must do it!”

Debbie is concerned that, by taking them to Bet Din, I will be sending them a message that I am using their visit as an opportunity for a Mitzvah rather than caring for them as the beloved friends they are.

Perhaps. However, friends allow each other to maximize their growth and Mitzvah opportunities. Surely they enjoy the fact that I treasure the time I spend with them because God is even more present when they visit.

They can breathe a sigh of relief. I will not take them to Bet Din; my back hurts too much from doing the laundry, which Debbie believes is a sign that I was not focused on the Mitzvah while doing the laundry.

“Gazalnu,” “We have stolen,” is included in the Vidui, the Confession. It includes being a Mitzvah thief. I don’t want my friends to feel guilty. I want them to so treasure the Mitzvah they afford me when they visit that they will be careful to stop stealing the slightest part of my Mitzvah. They can turn their “sin” into a learning opportunity. That will be a superb Vidui.

We approach God on Rosh Hashanah on many levels. One approach is that of a subject participating in the coronation of his King, and relating as a subject to a King. This series, “King and Subject,” will focus on verses that describe the relationship between a King and His subjects.

“God, deliver us! The King will answer us on the day we call (Psalms 20:10).” What is the deliverance we seek? What do we want that must happen immediately, “on the day we call”? We look to God, the King, as using Is power to empower us with the intellect and perception to know how to properly address Him. We turn to the King and say, “We need You, as King, to teach us how to speak to You as King.” (Ohr haMeir, Miketz)

One of the ways we approach God on the Day of Judgment is as a child approaching a parent. This series, Father and Child, will focus on versus that describe the relationship between a parent and a child.

“I will tell of the decree: God said to me, ‘ You are My son, I have this day given birth to you’ (Psalms 2:7).” “I will tell of the decree,” the following is to me a decree, without reason or rationale, for what am I, what is the meaning of my life, what is my importance, that God would say, “you are my son.”? I do not deserve this unless I hear the stress on the word “this day,” “Hayom,” that God is telling me, “Today I am looking at you the way a parent looks at a child in the 1st moments of the child’s life when everything is perfect and beautiful. This is the way I see you on Rosh Hashanah. Turn to Me and share in the beauty that I see in you.” (Yeitiv Lev, Re’ei)